


A Lion's Dream

by Arzhel



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, jaime misses his wench, translated work, written after season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arzhel/pseuds/Arzhel
Summary: Jaime has finally left King's Landing to travel North. At night, his thoughts wander to his wench...(Translated from French - originally posted in September 2017)





	A Lion's Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [La Rêverie du Lion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227583) by [Arzhel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arzhel/pseuds/Arzhel). 



> Episode 4 is coming with (I hope?) a special something for Brienne and Jaime, so I think now is the right time to post this !  
> My English is very French (sorry) but I hope you'll enjoy this anyway !

He rode until sunset and during most part of the night, for the moon was bright. It seemed like the fallen snow lit a clear path just for him to see. When he finally considered he had travelled far enough, and that it was unlikely that Cersei would send mercenaries after him so early, he stopped by the foot of a cliff. Heather and thick bushes had grown enough to hide him from potential travellers.

He tied his mare to a low branch and let her graze on the few tufts of yellow grass she could find. There was a small stream running nearby where they would both drink. He decided it to be wiser to not light a fire. The night was cold and he was tired, but he had dressed warmly. Better to wake up with frozen balls than with no balls at all, he thought. 

He feasted on dried meat, cheese, bread and fresh figs he had brought with him. Finally he had made himself leave Cersei, and the thought made him cheery and impatient like a little boy. He drunk his flask of wine faster than he anticipated for such a journey. Though he supposed a Lannister in possession of fresh wine was incapable of restraining himself anyway. He leaned against a rock with a groan of contentment. The moonlight made it easier for his eyes to wander over the land before him. 

His thoughts came back to the one who had made him deny his family and possibly his name. He smiled, imagining the surprised look on Brienne's face when she would discover what madness he had done. He wondered if perhaps he would see admiration in her big blue eyes.

He would soon be with the Silver Queen. He would see Brienne every day and fight side by side with her instead of constantly fearing a fateful encounter someday on the battlefield. For he knew she would be disappointed but determined to kill him if honor commanded it. But now, he would be very careful to never leave her again, unless the naughty wench asked him to do so. But she would not, if she liked him a little. She certainly did, right ? She was so stubborn she would deny it, of course. But if needed, Jaime would remind her what his body looked like and how stronger it had become since she last saw it in the baths of Harrenhal. He dreamed that this time, he would get closer to her, slowly, carefully, like the lion he was. She would lower her guard, the most valiant and desirable of all the preys he had ever met. Oh, the wine and the distance were great helpers... he imagined what he had forbidding himself for years... And she would be his, and he would be hers. Once they would be in the North, he would sneak into her bed and cover her full lips with his own. His tongue would ravish her, the same way his cock would do later between her legs if she let him. By all the Gods, how could he be so hard and so quickly ? He groaned and unfastened his pants. His hand slid on his eager shaft. It was better to take a moment to himself, for he felt like jumping back on his horse this instant to reach Brienne as quickly as possible. And a drunk Jaime, with his sword out of its sheath, would surely not make a good impression on the proud wench. 

He kept pleasuring himself, his breath short and his mind possessed by the vision of Brienne. He wanted to feel her against him, her powerful body shivering against his own, her long legs holding his thighs against her. Oh, how he wanted to be the first who'd ever caress that soft bud, reddened and moist with dew, the first to open her with his fingers warm like sunrays! He wanted to chase the last traces of restraint off her face, and see her abandon herself to him with trust. And honor that trust like he never did with anyone else. Not even Cersei, but he immediatly erased that name from his fantasy. He was not afraid his past urges would come back, he realised. That name was simply unworthy of standing near anything related to Brienne.

_Brienne_ who, he had no doubt, would make him lose his mind with bliss if she ever was to accept him inside her. A woman no man could get the chance of touching without the fear of losing his life or some other body parts she would come to worship with Jaime. He smiled, thinking of the way she would resist him at first, her big blue eyes shinning with desire for him when her tongue would try and keep her defenses high. She would remind him how unecessary it was of him to tell her everything he intended to do to her and in such a shocking way, now they were married. For Jaime would take care of marrying her before he would tear up her virgin veil, make her die and reborn in his arms. He did not care much about the tradition, especially with Brienne. They were both outcast and so far from what was expected of a man and a woman, let them keep their wedding! But he would do it for her. So that never again she would be called the _Lannister's whore_ and have her honor soiled. None of them knew she would always remain just as pure and rightful, no matter how many times he would take her.

A spark of clarity made him realise he was moaning loudly, whispering the name of his fair maid. It was lucky he was not with his men and that he could stay at will in his fantasy. The bright darkness of the night only made his feverish desire more intoxicating, like a simple snatched from Qyburn. He had better than a simple though, for in his mind there was Brienne moaning under him. 

The thought crossed his mind that a man pleasuring himself in the middle of the night, far from everything, alone and unable to fight properly with his remaining hand (a hand that was, anyway, too busy at the moment to grab his sword if needed be) would be an excellent target for any thief passing by the bushes surrounding him. And if it was known he was a Lannister, _Jaime Lannister_ , the Kingslayer, what a story to tell in all Westeros! In every tavern and brothel it would be said that he was found moaning the name of the _big cow Brienne_. He laughed, thinking of Cersei's expression. Her look horrified and constipated. And Brienne's red cheeks when she would hear Jaime had found his death having a wank with her name on his lips. He laughed heartily under the stars, his hand still working. For once in a long time, he almost felt happy. He saw himself fighting alongside Brienne, and then making love to her, and fight again back to back with her. Both visions seemed to merge into one, so true it was that they were both made for this. His breath quickened and the heat of his body rose. He groaned one last sigh when he found his release. After that, he fell in the sweetest sleep, as sweet as his lost innocence, with a smile on his lips.

It was far from certain he would survive more than two minutes in the presence of the Dragon Queen, the noble fury. But there was no regret to have in leaving King's Landing. If only he could have a taste of freedom long enough to see his Brienne, then all the trials the Gods had ever given him would not be in vain.


End file.
